Raising a shrine of War

TremulaTremula Banished QuasiroyalMember Posts: 2,645 Transcendent
The Stair of Unholy Wrath.
Grunt Natlyn, ur'Guard Initiate is here. Lord-Enginseer Ventidius De'Unnero, The Iron Magus is here. He wields a magnum blastworks in his left hand. Heresiarch Esca n'Lochli, Nighthawk Imperial is here. He wields a blighted symbol of pestilence in his right hand. Conductor Pectus n'Lochli is here, shrouded. A hooded Acolyte of the Ouroboros stands here, features wholly obscured and head bowed in supplication. Ur'Marshal Marcella n'Lochli, Warlady of Magnagora is here, shrouded. She wields a menacing double-edged klangaxe with both hands.
You see exits leading up and out (open door).

You say, "Now, I do believe this is everyone."

(Magnagora): You say, "Are there any others who will be attending?"

Esca peers about himself unscrupulously.

(The Evanescent): You say, "We begin, then, Evanescent."

Marcella stretches languidly.

Ur'Marshal Marcella n'Lochli, Warlady of Magnagora says, "Apparantly not."

You say, "Today, fellow citizens of the Engine, we have gathered to right a grievous wrong."

You say, "In honour of the Lady Enchantress, we will amend the offence the followers of the Hag have perpetrated, and those who would stand against us shall realise that while we may be hit, we will never be struck down."

You have emoted: Tremula sweeps her arm out to bring attention to the dark room around her, something akin to pity in her eyes as she stares out.

You say, "Evanescent, take your places."

Ventidius moves to the southwest part.

Pectus moves to stand to the southeast.

You say to Pectus, "And our honoured guest, of course."

Your eyes twinkle enchantingly.

Esca steps towards the northern part of the room.

Pectus's eyes twinkle enchantingly.

You have emoted: Dragging the bow of her violin behind her Tremula walks the space between Ventidius and Pectus, Pectus and Esca, then Esca and Ventidius, tracing a line that ends before reaching each. With equal care, she draws a circle around the three, encompassing them completely and closing the triangle with her in the middle.

You have emoted: Her eyes half closed, Tremula raises her bow like a conductor's baton, idly swinging it before gesturing towards Ventidius and flicking upwards.

Ventidius coughs and sings a low note, trying his best to follow the movements of Tremula's baton.

You have emoted: Nodding sagely, Tremula repeats the gesture towards Pectus, spinning on her heel to face her.

Pectus n'Lochli releases a bassful, contralto note to the motion of your baton.

You have emoted: With a flourish Tremula jabs the air inbetween her and Esca, eyes sparkling as the bow flicks once more.

Esca inhales deeply before lifting his chin, joining the other two with a high, clear note of his own.

With a practiced air, Pectus flicks his wrist and the vicinity resounds with the symphony of an orchestra. The music swells to crescendo before fading, the haunting notes of a violin lingering in its wake.

You have emoted: As the differing notes fill the air, Tremula raises her face to the heavens, her mouth opening wide as a high note well befitting an opera star joins the medley of the others, the tune now recognisable as the cry of a nightingale in song. They hold the note for a few moments before they end at a gesture from Tremula, the song ringing across the Demonic plane.

As the hallowed notes end and the melody dies, a gentle song can be heard from the firmament, a nightingale the colour of soft gold flitting down and perching upon the nearby spit.

(The m'Kbrah Legacy): Esca says, "Pretty."

Honouring the nightingale with a bow of her head before turning to those gathered, you exclaim, "Brothers and sisters of the Engine, hear my voice!"

With a scratchy failing voice, Lord-Enginseer Ventidius De'Unnero, The Iron Magus says, "I hear!"

The nightingale's chest swells with song and it chirps a series of enchanting notes.

Conductor Pectus n'Lochli says, "I hear!"

Heresiarch Esca n'Lochli, Nighthawk Imperial says, "I hear!"

Nodding her head sagely before continuing in a strong, clear voice,, you say, "We come to this space today to honour our Lady, and to right the wrongs done to Her by the Hag and Her ilk. But what do we bring to Her?"

You have emoted: Before any can answer, Tremula holds up her hand, glaring about.

Wisps of tainted gas escaping through gritted teeth, you whisper, "We bring Her nothing that can surpass our failure."

A shadow falls upon the ground as a large predatory bird circles overhead, black against the red-tinged sky, with a shrill cry of anger echoing in the sky.

You have emoted: Once more, Tremula raises her hand before any can answer, clearing her throat.

After taking a moment to compose herself, you say, "For if we had not failed in our duties to Her, then we would not be gathered here today. But our Lady has not forsaken us, and She has not written us off as failures. In our showing of faith to Her, she has shown Her own faith in us, sending Her nightingale to watch over our proceedings."

You have emoted: Tremula whistles a tune shockingly similar to the cry of a nightingale, looking coldly into the distance.

The heads of a translucent jade hydra with coruscant wings of dark violet flame look about in several directions, forked tongues flicking out to taste the air.

Esca whistles a tune shockingly similar to the cry of a nightingale, looking coldly into the distance.

Pectus whistles a tune shockingly similar to the cry of a nightingale, looking coldly into the distance.

A mischievous grin crossing her face, you say, "I do believe we've kept Her waiting long enough. Let us begin!"

Ventidius whistles a clear tune shockingly similar to the cry of a nightingale, looking coldly into the distance.

You have emoted: Extending her hand outwards, Tremula smirks faintly before snapping her fingers, deep crimson flames springing to life from the lines she drew on the ground. Another snap and a ring of fire circles around all those gathered, sealing the area.

Inky, caliginous darkness seeps across Lavinya's face in a living mask, her frantic, labored breaths causing the shadows to flutter intangibly before cracking and falling apart, leaving her gasping.

As the flames burn higher, the sounds of the outside world seem to fade away until there is nothing breaking the silence but the crackling of flames.

From its position upon the spit the nightingale bows its head momentarily before letting out a chirp far too powerful for its small frame. A heartbeat later, the flames gutter momentarily before flaring even brighter, the crimson now a vibrant indigo licked with lavender.

You tilt your head and listen intently to Ventidius.

Turning to Ventidius, you say, "War is a strange, manifold thing. Tell me, Evanescent, what you know of it.""

Lord-Enginseer Ventidius De'Unnero, The Iron Magus says, "Defeat like death is something faced every day. It is that friend that stays behind us, tempting us with the easy route, willing to trip us up if we let it. But the true warrior who seeks to overcome defeat turns to this friend and goes 'I shall never yield to you'."

Ventidius breathes in deep as he continues.

Natlyn leaves, following Ur'Marshal Marcella n'Lochli, Warlady of Magnagora.
Marcella leaves to the out, emanating an aura of immense power.

His voice breaking at odd points, Lord-Enginseer Ventidius De'Unnero, The Iron Magus says, "In war, defeat is a lesson in service, and like all good lessons, one should not get rid of the teacher. In this case, learnt of past defeats, including your own. Not only will this allow you to overcome your own problems or obstacles, but by seeing where others went wrong, you will become enlightened."

You have emoted: Tremula offers a small scoff at the departing Warlady before turning her attention back to Ventidius, shrugging off the rude departure.

Ventidius stops and seems to stall, before his body resumes it's normal movements.

Lord-Enginseer Ventidius De'Unnero, The Iron Magus says, "One man's defeat is another's victory. Do not charge blindly on like Celest, ignoring defeats and turning them into 'setbacks'. Do not hide behind the victories you already have, like Serenwilde. As the Engine turns, so must you, trampling your enemies, your doubts, your fears, and of course, your defeat. It is an insult, for sure, but it should not affect you, except to guide, to make more war."

Ventidius wheezes painfully.

Lord-Enginseer Ventidius De'Unnero, The Iron Magus says, "Never give up, never let defeat take it's hold. But when you are in war, and when it does, nod wisely, and tell yourself 'I shall not let this happen again. I shall win this war'. Never blame someone else, never seek to come out of a defeat triumphant, or with a delusion of having intended for it to happen. Even children learn not to touch hot things twice, and sensible people should learn that war and defeat go hand in hand. One person has to lose, after all. Make sure it isn't you."

Lavinya murmurs a quiet apology before silently withdrawing from the room.

Lavinya glides ominously outward amid a sibilant chorus of a thousand disparate whispers.

Ventidius settles back, metallic implants clanking together as he breathes in and out, heavily, pistons moving inside his body.

Natlyn arrives from the out.

Ventidius stands up and takes his place back in the circle.

Dark and angry, a shadow engulfs Ventidius. Gasping breathlessly and clawing at his throat, the echoes of his Aspect ring through the crackling flames again, eager for a second chance at the world proper. With a forceful slash of Tremulas bow, the shadow is blown backwards and gathered up to form a sphere above Ventidius head, palpable waves of anger washing over those gathered as the man below struggles to regain his composure.

Offering the human a soft smile, you say, "You have shown us much of Defeat, Ventidius."

Turning to Pectus, you say, "War is a strange, manifold thing. Tell me, Beloved of an Evanescent, what you know of it."

Ventidius quivers at the shadow's touch but seems to drink in the anger.

Pectus's body surges with a flexing of muscles, the scent of blood strong around the glamourist guest. A triumphant laugh howls from her mouth as the dance of victory and content exhaustion jerks through her limbs.

Conductor Pectus n'Lochli brags, "Victory! Victory is the hope in your blood in the morning light when the sound of the horns awakens you to arms. Victory spurs the mounts onward and the troops up. Victory will bring your enemies to heel and cull those who stand in the way of your victory."

The shadow roils in anger over Ventidius' head, stoking his anger and drinking of it at once to fuel itself in this confinement.

Conductor Pectus n'Lochli says, "Victory is the goal of all war. The dark taste in your mouth when the battle is done is the embodiment of victory. The ache in your bones after you are done is the feeling of victory. Relish in the feeling that your work has brought you, and know that victory will always be a blackness that brings sweetness."

Pectus gives the world a smart salute.

As Pectus ceases her speech, a strange shadow comes over her, the colour of burnished gold. Encompassing her fully, her eyes go blank for a few moments and her head lolls as echoes of her voice ring through the silence caused by the crackling flames.

With an upward flick from Tremula's bow, the shadow lifts from Pectus' body to rise into the air above her, the formless mass writhing until it is stilled by Tremula's command.

Nodding her head sagely, you say, "You have shown us much of Victory, my beloved Pectus."

Turning to face Esca, you say, "War is a strange, manifold thing. Tell me, Evanescent, what you know of it."

A shrill cry of victory echoes from the sky as a large predator blots out the blood-red sky momentarily.

Ventidius tells you, "Appropriate how thre is war going on right now."

Heresiarch Esca n'Lochli, Nighthawk Imperial says, "Bloodlust burns in our veins, it is the fuel that empowers us when we wage war."

Heresiarch Esca n'Lochli, Nighthawk Imperial says, "Bloodlust drives us in the heat of battle, ever onwards, until our enemies lay at our feet. Only then is it sated."

Heresiarch Esca n'Lochli, Nighthawk Imperial says, "Embrace it! Feel it fill you up and wash over your body in hot, bloody waves. Feel your heart beat faster than is possible as your purpose becomes clear, as your focus is crystal."

Heresiarch Esca n'Lochli, Nighthawk Imperial says, "It is carnal, a primal emotion, pure. Nothing burns through your veins the way battle can, hot and pulsing."

Heresiarch Esca n'Lochli, Nighthawk Imperial says, "Artists have Inspiration, and Bloodlust is that too. It is a drive that shows you the way to a path you thought impossible, it gives you tools and empowers you."

Heresiarch Esca n'Lochli, Nighthawk Imperial says, "My bloodlust is unsated till the barbarians of the 'Wilde lat at my feet, bloody, till this sacred space is empowered, till anything that stands against me and the Enchantress is ash."

Slow and succulent, a blood-red shadow spreads over Esca's skin like silk, offering naught but a slow bubble every few seconds to show that it is alive. Nodding at him, Tremula takes a cautious step back and eyes him carefully.

With a snap of his fingers, Esca is overcome with a roiling sea of shadow, rushing this way and that. He extends his hand outwards and the shadows creep off of his skin to manifest in a steaming pyramid above his outstretched palm. He nods to Tremula and the pyramid rises with a flick of her bow.

Giving him a respectful nod, you say, "You have shown us much of Bloodlust, Esca."

You have emoted: With a forceful sweep of her bow, the shadows begin to circle in their respective circles, moving faster and faster until they appear to be an unbroken ring. For a moment, Tremula watches their speeding rotations. A heartbeat later she puts her thumb and forefinger in her mouth and blows an ear-splitting whistle, and the shadows leave their respective circles to join above her head, clashing and striking against each other violently.

Reaching out to grab the dark grey shadow, you say, "Defeat is the very foundation of War, for it cannot exist without victory and defeat. We yearn for victory, placing defeat beneath us as a stepping stone and a learning point, but it will always loom there. And as we raise this shrine, let defeat be the base of it, that it may stand strong on a constant factor!"

With a harsh glare, Tremula whips the shadow outwards with a sharp crack, the writhing mass falling limp in her hands. Narrowing her eyes, she tosses it to the ground imperiously, and it expands into a pool of liquid grey smoke. A harsh command in a foreign language follows, and the pool withdraws into itself to form a base that shifts between square and circular.

Golden shadows drift down to coalesce in her outstretched palm as, you say, "Victory is the heart of war. All strive to reach it, whether they be mortal or Divine. With the Lady Sovereign at our backs, victory is always within our grasp, guided by Her hand. And as we raise this shrine, let victory be the body of it, that it will always be present within our lives!"

A soft, sibylline whisper escapes her lips, and Tremula extends her hand towards the grey base. As quick as a snake, the gold lashes out to strike the centre of the grey base. After a brief struggle, the gold pillars upwards and expands, shifting and turning with the base in an ephemeral vision of a basic shrine.

Raising her hands above her head to cup the steaming pool of blood-red shadow, you intone, "Our bloodlust is the most sensual of our warlike tendencies. It is what turns the base acts of violence into war, driving us to produce greater and grander acts than the lesser beings of the Engine. As we raise this shrine, let our tainted bloodlust be the final touches, subtly influencing all that we do."

Gently, Tremula coaxes the pyramid forward towards the shrine. As soon as the shadows touch, the effervescent shrine is completely engulfed by the crimson shadows. After a moment, it slowly sinks inwards and the familiar sight of a Drocillan war shrine hovers insubstantial above the ground.

Raising her eyes to the unseen heavens, you exclaim, "My Lady, we stand here today having raised veneration to You in the Aspects of War we have gathered. Show us Your benevolence, that we might expand Your influence to guard our borders from invasion!"

A soft warble escapes the nightingales throat, the soft cry overpowering all other noise and fading into the sky. With a harsh cry, the single nighthawk circling above spreads its wings outwards before folding them in and diving head-first to the evanescent shrine.

As soon as the caliginous bird makes contact with the shadows, they meld into it just a moment before it strikes the ground and vanishes. A lilting voice murmurs approval as velvety, sweet-scented fog blankets the sacred space.

You glower about yourself aggressively as you chant gutturally, summoning a new shrine of war to this place.

A war shrine of Drocilla rises up from a rumbling crack in the ground, coming to rest with a slight hum.

Putting two fingers to her lips in a gentle kiss before extending them to touch the shrine directly before her, you say, "And now, Evanescent, we will guard this shrine. Sanctify the rooms, that Her influence might spread and aide us in defence of our sovereign lands."

Turning her eyes skywards, you say, "We thank You, my Lady, for showing us Your power today. As always, we move forward in Your service, to show the Basin Your magnificence."

You have emoted: With a soft sigh, the flames gutter before flickering out, and Tremula visibly slackens, her bright eyes looking slightly worn and her sevenfold eye barely turning at all.

You have emoted: Tremula whistles a tune shockingly similar to the cry of a nightingale, looking coldly into the distance.

Pectus whistles a tune shockingly similar to the cry of a nightingale, looking coldly into the distance.

Esca whistles a tune shockingly similar to the cry of a nightingale, looking coldly into the distance.

Ventidius whistles a tune shockingly similar to the cry of a nightingale, looking coldly into the distance.

Drocilla, the Enchantress has bestowed Her divine truefavour upon you. It will last for [REDACTED].
                      * * * WRACK AND ROLL AND DEATH AND PAIN * * *
                                     * * * LET'S FEEL THE FEAR OF DEATH AGAIN * * *
          * * * WE'LL KILL AND SLAUGHTER, EAT THE SLAIN * * *
  * * * IN RAVAGING WE'LL ENTERTAIN * * *

Ixion tells you, "// I don't think anyone else had a clue, amazing form."

Comments

  • MaligornMaligorn Windborne Member Posts: 2,788 Transcendent
    The ritual was nice, but I'd really like to see the desc of it, shortdesc, and what it looks like when rooms are sanctified next to it!

    image
  • TremulaTremula Banished Quasiroyal Member Posts: 2,645 Transcendent
    A hooded woman sings a haunting melody as she holds a burning
    censer high, its lavender flame burning low across the white copper
    tray.

    p shrine
    The effigy of a woman shrouded by a cloak
    makes up the body of this shrine that has been sculpted from rich lapis
    lazuli. The overtly feminine figure of the statues centerpiece adds
    seduction to the haunting beauty of the song that issues from the frozen
    womans parted lips, a melody that causes the air to shimmer with its
    keening desires and its crooning lament. A censer forged of white copper
    dangles from the statues hand by an obsidian chain, the tray of which
    burns with a lavender flame that emits a fragrant smoke. As the fire
    crackles and the coils of smoke drift skyward, the hooded figure looks
    as if it moves of its own accord, its mouth appearing to open and close
    through the haze of purple. Carved of obsidian, a flock of nighthawks
    forms the base of the shrine, their eyes aglow with an eerie violet
    effulgence and beaks open in silent screams.
    It weighs about 375 pounds.
    It has the following aliases: shrine.


    A rich, feminine voice croons a keening melody that causes the
    air to crackle as if it were burning, emanating from a war shrine of
    Drocilla nearby.


                          * * * WRACK AND ROLL AND DEATH AND PAIN * * *
                                         * * * LET'S FEEL THE FEAR OF DEATH AGAIN * * *
              * * * WE'LL KILL AND SLAUGHTER, EAT THE SLAIN * * *
      * * * IN RAVAGING WE'LL ENTERTAIN * * *

    Ixion tells you, "// I don't think anyone else had a clue, amazing form."
  • PectusPectus Member Posts: 546 Mythical

    8-> If you couldn't tell, I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing. I filled in for one absent person and Ventidius filled in for the other. There were literal weeks for the absent people to prepare and we just kinda had to do it and hope it worked.

  • VentidiusVentidius Member Posts: 291 Gifted
    What you don't see is the million tells Tremula and I kept sending each other in a panicked way.

    I feel bad for the people who weren't there though, because I think they should at least get something for all their hard work an efforts.
  • PectusPectus Member Posts: 546 Mythical
    Ventidius said:

    What you don't see is the million tells Tremula and I kept sending each other in a panicked way.


    I feel bad for the people who weren't there though, because I think they should at least get something for all their hard work an efforts.
    I saw them! :D That's why I sent you the nightwhistle one.

  • NaylNayl Member Posts: 78 Capable
    Yeah, starting work the same week as a ritual is to happen kind of sucks, nice to see it pulled off well.
    Good job guys.
    Is also the Shintar.
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